She/they pronouns ⭐️ 15 years old ⭐️ INFJ ⭐️ Hufflepuff ⭐️ aspiring poet ⭐️ autistic ⭐️ ADHD ⭐️ sapphic ⭐️ I hope you have a wonderful day!! <3.
She/they pronouns ⭐️ 15 years old ⭐️ INFJ ⭐️ Hufflepuff ⭐️ aspiring poet ⭐️ autistic ⭐️ ADHD ⭐️ sapphic ⭐️ I hope you have a wonderful day!! <3.
“Like I,
The moon bruises,
But we shan’t suffer alike.”
One of youth,
A child in both body and mind,
Should never know such pain.
Yet the stars listen,
To her waning whisper,
Breaking with untellable sorrow,
“I shan’t suffer like the moon,
I shan’t!
I shan’t!
We shan’t suffer alike,
We shan’t!
We shan’t!
The alike suffer like the moon,
Yet I,
Like bruises.”
Craters line its skin,
Never to disappea...
Pin me to your strings,
And play me like a doll,
For my head and my heart fight,
And I need you to choose,
Which delusion will be buried,
And which will grow wings.
The Heart swoons,
Soft frame falling onto the chaise longue,
Dreaming of vintage love,
And eyes undressing her,
Under the light of the strawberry moon.
The Head scoffs,
Cheeks a rosy pink,
Whispering faintly,
“We cannot love her,
Not ...
You are my love,
My obsession;
I crave feeding from your heart,
And clutching onto your soul.
You reject me,
Time and time again,
But,
I know I can make you adore me.
What are you afraid of?
I have watched your every move,
Learned the paths of your mind,
Can’t you see?
We are tied together with string,
A match made by destiny.
I will prove,
That I am worthy of your affection,
And you will kneel at...
Change needn’t be justifiable,
Not when spring,
Can ever so gracefully,
Bloom into summer.
Not when harsh snow,
Can soften into rain,
And bare branches can bud.
Not every stage is identifiable,
Like those muddy months,
Where the world begins to regrow,
But the bite of winter still lingers.
What is change,
If not a natural cycle?
The seasons will turn,
And we shall turn with them,
As sweet as May’s...
Molly, my love,
Ireland’s fairest cailín, you are,
The Queen of my heart, and I,
The Queen of yours.
Mama will never understand it,
Papa will never accept it, but,
Sappho would be proud.
The Doves,
The Isle’s whitest wings, sing of our peace,
The Lords bells, announce our union.
Molly, dearest, let us run to the countryside,
Papa won’t find us there.
Molly, oh, my darling, you are my home;
Satan h...
Then it begins,
The hunt.
My darling,
We may run for our entire lives,
And they will still catch us.
With their gnawing teeth,
And twisted grins,
They will rip the skin from our bones,
And steal the fire from our souls.
There is no time to repent,
For my sins,
Seconds are dripping from our fingers,
Into the gaping mouths,
Of the demons that crawl at our feet.
RUN
Listen to the screams that follo...
Are you a fallen angel, my love?
Your wings so delicate,
Shield a soft frame.
Do not hide behind your feathers,
Dearest,
For your beauty is not bounded by your body,
It grows within,
A golden heart caught between your ribs.
Like a dove,
You sit,
Cradled by snowy down,
At peace,
And one with the world’s chaos.
I know there are wounds you cannot heal,
A hurt that will never cease,
But you do not hav...
There is something beautiful growing within these stone walls. A fire licking the roof, burning as bright as the sun. My love for her knows no bounds, and yet, grades and tired eyes make us hesitate. The students giggle and point, eyes sparkling with glee, but their taunts aren’t the issue. I see the coffee stains on her blouse and the messy scribbles on essays. Even when the moon has risen and I ...